


Used To Be Able To Love (Teach Me)

by orphan_account



Series: Frerard Oneshots [3]
Category: Death Spells (Band), Frank Iero and the Patience, LeATHERMØUTH, My Chemical Romance, frnkiero andthe cellabration
Genre: Alternate Universe - No My Chemical Romance, Bottom Frank Iero, Cute, Fluff, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Killjoy AU, Light Dom/sub, M/M, MCR, Punk Frank Iero, SO ORIGINAL, Sub Frank Iero, There's smut, Top Gerard Way, bdsm maybe?, but its innocent, just cute, killjoys, kinda smutty, not really - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2019-11-04
Packaged: 2021-01-08 00:43:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21226961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: short oneshot where Fun Ghoul meets a fellow killjoy and the future doesn't seem so bulletproof... not without Gerard by his side.





	Used To Be Able To Love (Teach Me)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm gonna try and get this done in like half an hour, so enjoy!

The Zones didn't use to be this dark. In whispers around campfires, the old people talked about the days when city lights bled into the night sky, golden scars on our still-broken planet.

Now, it's pitch-black. Starry nights are something of fairytales, and a man like Fun Ghoul has no time for childish narratives. He used to have time to listen in awe to the "way things used to be". He's just a vessel fighting to survive now. Happiness comes and goes like the rebels that flock around Battery City, some hoping for a revolution, some hoping for redemption. Fun Ghoul never used to be a cold man either. He used to be a man who loved his guitar and the colours he could see it produce. As a child, his father described his son's gift as 'music vision'. 

"They flash when you hear the music, don't they?" His father would say. And he was right. Some notes flashed green while others glowed a dark crimson. But music wasn't something that existed in Fun Ghoul's world anymore. Between running from Dracs to foraging for food, the twenty-six-year-old didn't have time for anything else. 

"Fuckin' Dracs," He swore under his breath, wincing as he dabbed a cloth on the stinging wound. The abandoned diner seemed to be a good enough hideout for the moment, just enough coverage so Ghoul could attempt to mop up the stab wound in his shoulder. One of the Dracs that had caught on to him earlier chucked a knife and it sliced open a part of the flesh on his shoulder, the deep red of blood staining the yellow of his jacket. The flow of blood seemed to slow down as he kept the towel pressed firmly against the cut. In a moment of weakness, Fun Ghoul let his head loll back against the ragged booth seat, eyelids fluttering closed. He was so bitterly tired. The cold February air cooled his cheeks, his eyelashes brushing softly over his skin.

"Any last words before I blow your brains out?" A voice called from the entrance of the diner. Ghoul snapped up, darting underneath the table and seizing his gun. He'd only sat down for five minutes and another uppity Draculoid had found him? Biting back a witty retort, he stayed huddled under the table, his gun held at the ready. The sound of boots clicking down the aisle got steadily closer. "Come out wherever you are, fucker," The voice said cheerfully, black boots stopping right in front of the booth. Ghoul held his breath, his eyes wide and fixated on the leather. The person kept walking after a beat and Ghoul knew he had to take the chance while he had it. As the boots walked past his hiding spot, he leapt out, pressing his ray gun to the back of the other man's head.

"I'll blow _your_ damn brains out unless you keep fucking walking," Ghoul spit, glaring at the man in front of him. The man spun around, catching Ghoul off guard and knocking the ray gun out of his hand. Ghoul lunged for it, only to be stopped by a powerful hand on his collar, yanking him back and causing him to choke.

"Don't try to run pretty boy," The man said confidently, pushing his ray gun under Ghoul's chin. "Unless you want to get blood all over the tiles, and it would be a shame to ruin the decor."

"I was here first and I'm not a Drac so leave me alone," Ghoul demanded, trying to back up as subtly as possible. But the other man shoved him against the wall, his forearm pressed against Ghoul's chest to keep him there.

"I know who you are, Fun Ghoul," The man said, blowing a strand of bright red hair away from his face with the side of his mouth. "I realized it when you first spoke. You've caused quite a stir with all of Battery City trying to capture you."

"Let me guess, you're here to collect your bounty?" Ghoul snapped.

"Of course not, do I look like a Drac or a Scarecrow?" The man asked, rolling his eyes. "We're alike, you and I."

"If we're so alike, then let me go!" Ghoul replied angrily.

"You'll shoot me the second I turn my back, I know how you work," The man countered, pressing the barrel of his gun harder into Ghoul's chin. "I refuse to die at the hands of some Italian short-stop who thinks he can outrun all of BL/Ind."

"Fuck you!" Ghoul cried, kicking out at the tall man that had his back pressed against the wall. His heel connected with the tall killjoy's kneecap, the grip on his gun only loosening a fraction. "Who do you think you are, asshole?!"

"Party Poison, that's who I am," The man replied, tightening his grip painfully. 

"It was a rhetorical question," Fun Ghoul hissed. "I don't care who you are."

"Then why ask?"

"What do you want from me?" Ghoul sighed, slumping back in defeat.

"I want you to come with me."

"What?" There was a beat of silence in which both men stared at each other, a vacant expression clouding the killjoy's once-bright irises. Ghoul's rebellion took away the light from his eyes, making him a cold shell of the beautiful man he used to be. He was a man replaced by a husk of rebellion and spite.

"Killjoys work better as a team, don't you think?" Poison said, smirking.

"That's how you recruit people, by pinning them against walls and insulting them?" Ghoul challenged, his glare becoming more pronounced. "I don't want to join your little circus troupe. I'm fine on my own."

"You'd have a family, Ghoul," Party replied quietly.

"Don't get cute with me, Poison," Ghoul hissed, looking livid. "You don't know me, so shut the fuck up."

"Either way, we could use your skill," Party said, ignoring Ghoul's jibe.

"We?" Ghoul asked. Party Poison nodded.

"Kobra Kid and Jet Star, we're the most wanted Killjoys in California," Poison laughed. "We'd do well with you."

"What would I get out of this?" Ghoul asked, cursing himself for even thinking about it.

"You'd get to be a part of something again," Poison offered, chuckling when Ghoul rolled his eyes. "We're not gonna let you die of boredom." Ghoul laughed dryly.

"I'll come with you, on one condition," Ghoul replied finally. 

"Sure," Poison said, smiling and loosening his grip on the shorter killjoy. Ghoul shoved Party off of him, kicking the taller man in the balls as hard as he could. Party doubled over, staggering backwards and grunting in pain.

"Don't fucking threaten me again," Ghoul spat, picking up his gun. Party laughed, coughing slightly.

"You don't scare me, punk," He chuckled, amused. "We're gonna have some fun, trust me."

**~~Three Months Later~~**

"What the fuck, Poison!" Ghoul yelled, throwing any heavy object he could grab at the laughing killjoy that was darting around. "You asshole!"

"They were only Pop-Tarts, Ghoul!" Poison shouted back, chucking a paperweight back as hard as he could.

"They were mine!" Ghoul yelled, deciding to just run at Poison, abandoning his original plan. "I have nothing left now, you destroyed my Pop-Tarts!" The enraged midget launched himself at Party Poison, catching the man off-guard and knocking them both into the fridge of the abandoned house they were staying in for the night.

"Ow, what the hell!" Poison said indignantly, shoving Ghoul back and switching their positions. "You don't get to push me against the fridge, you ungrateful bastard."

"Screw you, Pop-Tart stealer!" Ghoul spat, trying not to laugh. It was often that the two men got into stupid arguments and they always ended up in some sort of physical fight, the conflict usually ending in tears of laughter. Kobra Kid, Poison's brother, and their other fellow killjoy Jet Star had learned to put up with the constant yelling in their safehouses. The laughter never lasted long though. Either they had to move houses, or Ghoul stormed off for some reason or another.

"I could toss you out of here and leave you in the dust, so I would be nice to me," Poison said, his body pressed against Ghoul's hard enough to keep him from wriggling free. "You're so damn ungrateful, Ghoul."

"Like I need to feed your massive ego," Ghoul chuckled, rolling his eyes. "Besides, I don't have to thank anyone. I'm not your bitch."

"I beg to differ," Poison replied, leaning in fractionally. In these moments, their fellow killjoys would usually clear the room, the tension just becoming uncomfortable for any onlookers. In these moments, Ghoul feels something. Not anything unpleasant, but his heart beats just that little bit faster and the heat of Poison's body becomes almost unbearable.

"Then beg," Ghoul said, the corner of his mouth lifting in a smirk.

"I think you're better suited to begging than I am, Frankie," Poison laughed. And then he's done it. The nickname slid from his tongue so easily and Ghoul felt his cheeks heat up and his smirk slip. The one thing Poison knew how to manipulate him with. They'd exchanged names after a few weeks of being together in the team and Poison seemed to enjoy seeing Ghoul's reactions whenever his name was brought up. It would always fluster him for a split second, and then he would collect his wits, shoving the older man aside and grumbling. But this time he couldn't exactly move away. 

"Oh, fuck off," Ghoul muttered.

"Aw, you're blushing," Poison teased. Over three months, the killjoys had grown close, their banter resembling that of best friends. 

“Shut the hell up, Gerard,” Ghoul said in annoyance, pushing back hard. Unfortunately, this only made him press harder against the tall killjoy in front of him. Ghoul hastily leaned back against the fridge, suddenly feeling Poison was uncomfortably close.

“Make me,” Poison challenged, laughing. Ghoul only smirked back and leaned up on his toes and moved to press his lips against Poison’s mouth. But at the last second, he leant back again, catching Poison off guard. Seizing the moment, Ghoul shoved the other off and darted away.

“Oh god, you’re so gullible,” Ghoul cackled, running out of reach. 

“Get back here, asshole!” Poison yelled, chasing Ghoul throughout the rooms. The sound of pounding feet and laughter echoed through the rundown house, filling it with an outdated joy that had no place in their post-apocalyptic world. But neither man felt that way, at that moment. The lingering guilt of feeling contentment was waning rapidly, and their killjoy personas were waning as well. 

"Come get me then!" Ghoul shouted back. Poison cornered Ghoul in the old living room, smirking widely.

"Finish what you so rudely started, Frank," He said triumphantly.

"And if I don't?" Ghoul challenged, raising an eyebrow. Poison huffed in annoyance and closed the distance between their mouths, crashing them together harshly. Ghoul exhaled a squeak of surprise, kissing back ardently. "Fucking hell," He breathed against the taller man's lips, allowing Poison's tongue to explore his mouth without a fight. Their tongues moved in sweet harmony, as though they had each other memorized. Poison pulled back a little, his teeth capturing Ghoul's bottom lip and holding it gently for a moment before letting go.

"Wanna fuckin' sass me again, bitch?" He said, their eyes locked. 

"I think I might, Gee," Ghoul fired back bravely, well aware of the power imbalance in their positions. This time Poison didn't hold back, kissing into Ghoul's mouth urgently, his hands drifting to the younger boy's hair.

"I think you need to be taught a lesson, hm?" Poison hissed quietly, taking Ghoul by the hand and dragging the both of them to the surprisingly intact bedroom. Frank heard the implication straight away and bit back a moan. Sex with Gerard sounded like a great idea at the moment. It wasn't like Frank was in any way a virgin. He'd been hooking up with every gender he could while alone on the run. So the idea of fucking wasn't a surprise.

Gerard had the boy pinned against the bedroom door in a flash, the sound of a heavy old lock sliding closed ringing through their infatuated ears.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to kiss you, _no fucking clue_, do you?" Gerard purred, the dominant tone dripping from his words naturally and making Frank's knees go weak.

"God, no I haven't," Frank whined, slightly uncomfortable with his hands held above him, but it was hot as all hell. 

"For such a rebellious fuck, you sure are a pure angel, aren't you Frankie?" Gerard chuckled, looking amused at Frank's attempts to break free. 

"Shut the hell up and fuck me!" Frank burst out, trying to kiss the man in front of him. After months of pointlessly lusting over the hot-ass killjoy that'd recruited him, the asshole was teasing the fuck out of him. Something snapped in Gerard's eyes and suddenly Frank was being kissed like he was air and Gerard was drowning. Oxygen became scarce as both men stumbled back on to the bed, Gerard on top of Frank. Gerard tugs at Frank's shirt.

"Off, get it off," He mumbles, pulling Frank's t-shirt over his head. The inked skin of his hips and chest were exposed and Gerard sucked in a breath, staring at the colours decorating the shorter man's skin. "You're beautiful," Gerard breathed softly, trailing his wandering fingers around the swallows on Frank's hips. Frank smiled, eyes lighting up for the first time in years. He felt alive again, a warm ball of happiness curling up behind his heart.

"You too, Gee," Frank responded, his voice choked off. Gerard grinned back, pressing a chaste kiss to the younger boy's lips. The heat of the moment had died a little as Frank reached up to wrap his arms around Gerard's neck and pull him down beside him. The embrace didn't escalate much, their lips moving together lazily. 

"You know when I saw you in that diner, I seriously thought you were just a hallucination," Gerard remarked, fingers trailing over Frank's arm. "There was no thought in my mind that made you real."

"This desert can play tricks on your mind if you're here long enough," Frank mumbled, enjoying the feeling of Gerard's arm around him and his body pressed close.

"You don't belong here," Gerard said, then hastily keeps speaking after seeing Frank's expression harden. "No, I mean you don't belong to the rebellion. Frank, you shouldn't be caught up in this. I wish you weren't." 

"I do belong to the rebellion, stop trying to tell me to run away," Frank replied. 

"I don't mean that," Gerard sighed in frustration. "I wish you could love me, you know? The war took that." Frank looked up, quirking his head to the side.

"What are you on about?" He asked, confused. Gerard tightened his grip around Frank's waist, a sad expression overtaking his usual smirk.

"I think you used to be happy, and you aren't anymore," He replied simply. "I see it in the way to laugh and smile when you do. Your eyes don't light up, there's nothing there. You're like glass, there's nothing behind your eyes. It looks like you feel nothing but anger all the time." 

"I-" Frank started, about to argue the point, but closed his mouth. It was true, wasn't it? He hadn't felt anything positive in years. Well, nothing until three months ago. And even then, it came and went in small bursts.

"You're so unbearably empty and it hurts to see someone like you like this," Gerard continued, sounding genuinely upset. "I first saw you, and the only thing I could see in your expression was fury. Even with my gun under your chin, you weren't scared. Just... angry."

"I don't feel that anger anymore, Gee," Frank said, trying to communicate his change with his eyes. "I'm better here with you guys." Gerard looked down at the shorter man, meeting the pleading gaze.

"I don't know that," Gerard whispered. "I won't love a man that is incapable of loving me back."

"I used to be able to love," Frank said back, desperation lacing his words like sweet poison. "Teach me how to love again." Gerard's eyelids squeezed shut against Frank's gaze. "I could be dead tomorrow, you've always known that. So teach me to love."

"What if I can't?" Gerard replied solemnly. 

"Then at least try!" Frank huffed in exasperation. Gerard looked unmoving, his eyes pressed shut against everything. The smaller killjoy shifted, bringing his mouth up to meet Gerard's softly, attempting to sway him. 

"It's not that easy!" Gerard hissed, turning over abruptly and pinning Frank's wrists above his head.

"Then teach me to fear, anything!" Frank fired back. "Show me you care, let me care about you!" Gerard rolled his eyes, proceeding to press his lips to Frank's with renewed energy, causing the boy underneath him to groan appreciatively. Their tongues danced together, clashing until Frank gave up and surrendered to Gerard. The cold air had been replaced with a rising heat as Gerard tugged off his shirt and tightened his grip on Frank's wrists. 

"You want me to scare you, Frankie?" He asked dangerously, dragging the tip of his nose along Frank's jawline slowly, leaving behind a wonderful tingle along the trail. "You want me to teach you to feel again?" Frank nodded vigorously as Gerard's mouth ghosted along his neck. "You want to love me?"

"Yeah, I do," Frank breathed. The next minutes passed in a blur, only distinguished by the muffled movements and gentle words emitted by Gerard. Gerard pressed a slicked finger to Frank's entrance, studying his expression for any discomfort.

"Feeling okay?" He asked, his free hand resting lightly in Frank's long hair. Frank nodded, nevertheless wincing at the intrusion as Gerard pushed in. "We don't have to do this, Frankie, if you aren't up for it."

"No!" Frank exclaimed quickly, grasping Gerard's wrist sharply as his finger brushed against the bundle of nerves inside him. "Fuck, don't you dare stop." Gerard chuckled quietly, pushing another finger in as Frank moaned quietly underneath him. Something like euphoria travelled up Frank's spine, a moan falling from his lips. This didn't feel anything like what he'd felt while with those porn droids or other killjoys. Gerard felt different.

~~

"Ghoul, get your gun, we're going Drac hunting!" Gerard hollered, gesturing for the younger killjoy to _get moving already_.

"Jeez, I'm coming!" Frank yelled back, snagging his jacket and gun. The cold November air was biting horribly and a jacket was of the essence. The essence of comfort, that is. "Hey, Gee." He said, kissing his boyfriend on the cheek.

"No time for kisses, Drac hunting!" Gerard quipped, smirking. 

"We aren't hunting down the assholes from last week, are we?" Frank asked, hooking his gun onto his belt.

"Oh yeah, we are," Gerard replied. 

"We nearly got ghosted last time, why don't we leave them alone?" Frank chuckled, shaking his head. 

"Why don't you retrieve your old 'I don't give a fuck' attitude and kill some motherfuckers?" Gerard shot back. 

"Why don't you let go of your little vendetta and we can start our trip to Jersey?" Frank challenged, following the older man out the door nonetheless. "Where's Kobra and Jet?" 

"They aren't coming, they're getting supplies," Gerard said offhandedly, climbing on to the motorcycle that he'd hardwired a few weeks prior. Frank stopped, real concern crossing his face.

"We almost died even with the other two, why are you sending us on a suicide mission?" Frank demanded. Gerard sighed and looked over his shoulder.

"I'm not letting Korse live, are you kidding, Frank?" He said. Frank ground his teeth together, frustrated with Gerard's sudden change of character. He was usually the mastermind, the one who kept a level head and kept the killjoys alive. Now, it seemed he was fuelled by fury over something. Or some other emotion that Frank couldn't pinpoint...

"What did Korse do that was so bad that you're sending us to our deaths?" Frank asked, crossing his arms. 

"Are you coming or not?" Gerard replied, ignoring the question. Frank huffed angrily. getting on behind his boyfriend.

"If you die, so do I, asshole," Frank grumbled, causing Gerard to laugh. 

"Have some faith, darling," He drawled, kicking the motorcycle into motion, speeding off towards Korse's rumoured hideout. Frank positioned his head to rest on Gerard's shoulder, pulling himself snug against Gerard's back. They arrived at the dilapidated old diner in no time, the building they'd met in. 

"Korse picked here to camp?" Frank said dubiously, hopping off the motorcycle quickly and surveying the place with his hand on his gun.

"Nope," Gerard chuckled, wrapping his arms around Frank's waist. 

"Then what-?" Frank started, only to be cut off by Gerard's lips grazing his neck. "You're just horny and want to fuck in a diner?"

"Jesus, can't I be romantic for once?" He groaned, lacing his fingers gently with Frank's. Frank tightened his grip, letting out a tiny breath. "We met here, Frankie. That's kinda romantic, right?"

"Super romantic," Frank agreed, nodding. The two killjoys were quiet for a moment, swaying back forth slowly, caught up in each other's company.

"I think I love you, you know?" Gerard whispered suddenly. Frank turned around, his heart beating hard.

"What?" His reply was quiet, almost broken.

"I love you, Frank," Gerard said, confidence fuelling his words now.

"I-," Frank started, only to be cut off by a resonating bang. He drew back sharply, reaching for his gun in an instant and looking around for the perpetrator. His gaze zeroed in on Korse, standing a ways away. In a flash, Frank lifted his gun and fired at Korse with deadly accuracy, hitting him dead in the temple. The agent's gun clattered to the pavement as his body dropped to the floor, a small smoking hole decorating the side of his skull. 

"Jesus, we finally got the fucker," Frank laughed, turning back to Gerard. "What a lame-ass shot, he fuckin' missed... us..." He trailed off, staring blankly at Gerard's ashen face. "Gee?"

"He didn't miss." Frank looked down and saw the blood. 

_"Fuck, Gee, please," My moan resonated louder than I'd anticipated, the feeling of Gerard inside me overwhelming my senses._

"No..." Frank mumbled, feeling Gerard slip from his grasp. "Gee..." The older killjoy crumpled to the floor, dragging Frank with him as he gasped for air.

_"Those guys are no match for us, darling," He laughed, kissing my forehead. I shook my head, smiling up at him. "Besides, I'll always protect your pretty face."_

"Frankie, what happened?" Gerard rasped out, coughing gently. The blood was flowing quickly from the wound in his chest as Frank tried desperately to cover it with his jacket, pressing down hard.

_"You're beautiful."_

"Y-You... Korse, uh, he got you," Frank choked, blinking back tears furiously. "But I'll fix it, I promise, Gee."

_"I won't love a man that is incapable of loving me back."_

Gerard reached for Frank's face, wiping away a stray tear. "We're dumbasses, don't worry, darling." Frank laughed jerkily, moisture gathering in his eyes, distorting his vision.

_"Then teach me to fear, anything! Show me you care, let me care about you!"_

"Stay awake, fucker, please!" Frank cried sharply, seeing Gerard's eyes flutter shut for a moment. "I can fix it, don't die on me you prick!" 

_"It's not that easy!"_

"Frank, it's okay."

_"You want me to teach you to feel again?" _

"It's okay."

_"You want to love me?"_

"Please, Gee!" Frank sobbed brokenly, shattering into too many pieces. "I can't-"

_"Yeah, I do." _

Gerard's eyes shut and Frank didn't bother to cry out again. "Stay alive, darling. For me," Gerard mumbled, his hand brushing over Frank's cheek one last time before dropping to the ground. Frank laid his head on Gerard's chest, yelling out when he felt nothing there. Gerard's chest was wet with blood and utterly still. Blood didn't flow anymore and Frank's heart splintered before breaking apart entirely. He looked up at the immobile face 

_"You want to love me?"_

"I love you, Gerard."

**Author's Note:**

> It took me two weeks to finish, goddamn
> 
> Sorry for this  

> 
> EDIT: I WAS IN THE MIDDLE OF WRITING THIS AND MCR IS BACK, HOLY FUCK I CAN'T FUCKING- OH MY GOD


End file.
